Closets, Costumes, and Kisses
by Marcelle1
Summary: SLASH. Byron Pike and Jeff Schaefer's relationship from the end of the school year up until the following Halloween.
1. Damn, This Closet Is Small

Title: Damn, This Closet Is Small

Author: Joy

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: If I was Ann M. Martin, do you think I'd be writing fanfiction? I'd be late for a book signing! I solemnly swear that I make no profit from this (and probably am up to no good, as well.

Pairing: B/J, but no action this time, sorry!

Summary: Jeff has one of those awkward bonding moments with his mom.

Notes: No beta again. This fits in somewhere before "Costumed", but I can't give you an exact chronology yet.

* * *

Jeff was helping cut tofu up for salad when his mother made an attempt at conversation. This struck Jeff immediately as a bad sign; parental communication was only used as a last resort to extract information. He put the knife to the side, wary.

"So... how's school?"

"Mom. This is the last week of school. You might have wanted to ask that last month."

"Oh."

Jeff felt slightly bad for brushing his mom off so rudely, but her absent-mindedness really got to him sometimes. Dawn had tried to give him coping advice when she left for college. He tried to remember it now.

"Jeff, Mom does care. It's just that... she's so passionate about things that she can only concentrate on one thing at a time. I think. Well, don't be so hard on her. She really does care."

And Dawn was gone. Not even her tinny voice, still sunny and bright despite the miles and ocean between them, could make him really believe her words. Especially when Mom was asking him the same question she had asked him in grade school every single afternoon. Now that he was in high school, she should have switched to questions like, "Do you need the car?" or even "So, how's Byron?".

Except that was a subject Jeff yearned not to talk about, and even while he thought about it, the back of his neck began to flush and he felt a horrible urge to talk about it, to tell this mysterious and wonderful secret out in the open.

"So... How's Byron?"

If Jeff had been holding the knife, he would most certainly have chopped something off.

"Well... um..."

There were a million answers to this question, but Jeff wasn't sure if his mother really wanted to know that Byron was a fantastic kisser, or that he had the best collection of porn Jeff had ever seen, or that if you licked just right, his nipples would peak in the most fascinating way.

"Fascinating?"

Jeff's spine would have curled up, if that were possible. Had he really just confessed that aloud?

"No, Mom, I mean... it was just..." Jeff wrapped his hands around the salad bowl and slid it back and forth across the counter. "It was truth or dare at a party, but nothing else."

Sharon smiled with bemusement at her son's accidental confession. She wasn't exactly sure what Jeff was confessing, but it was plain that it had been gnawing at him. She poured a glass of water and placed it in front of him. Dawn had reminded her that if she just listened without giving any advice, that Jeff would open up. It just took concentration.

"That doesn't make it wrong, though right?" Jeff slumped over the table, his shoulders drooping miserably. "I mean... if I wanted to, it wouldn't be wrong. It was a dare, yeah."

Jeff put his head on his arms, his throat suddenly clogged by tears. His mom came around the table, putting her hands on his shoulders and rubbing gently. Somehow, the tender motion made him want to cry more.

"I don't want to disappoint you. But I don't want..." He stopped, unable to continue. Sharon took this as her cue to say something supportive.

"Jeff, do you really think what you've done is wrong?"

His hair flew violently in all directions as he shook his head. She smoothed it out and kneeled down next to him, making sure her next words were crystalline clear.

"Have you ever been forbidden to do something in this house that you knew wasn't wrong?"

Jeff trembled, afraid of the freedom his mother was giving him, and reluctant to indulge in it. But she seemed perfectly aware of his mistakes and furthermore, was permissive of something he had confessed guilt to. This was a definite improvement in parental communication.

"Mom... do you think it's okay if I ask Byron to prom then? I don't know if he'll say yes, but if he does, I want him to be welcome here." He knew he was rambling now.

"Umm..." At this crucial moment, Sharon realized what her son had been trying to tell her. Not that it particularly bothered her, but she felt a twinge of remorse that Jeff had felt the need to disguise the issue. She really should have followed Dawn's advice a little more often.

She didn't answer him immediately; she was still digesting the newly-found addition to her son's personality. Seeing the glimmer of hopeful tears, she smiled.

"Of course you can. And yes, you can have the car."


	2. Costumed

Title: Costumed

Author: Joy

Rating: PG, I guess

Disclaimer: Not mine. Property of Ms. Martin and Scholastic, although the boys might need a scrubbing when they go back. )

Pairing: Byron/Jeff Summary: Halloween brings more surprises than just candy.

Notes: The WTFOMG!Bunny is responsible for this. Although I might also want to blame it on Sting's "Roxanne". Totally unbeta-ed. & yes, it will probably have a sequel, before you ask.

* * *

"Tell me again that this is a good idea."

Byron leaned into the bathroom mirror, giving himself a pep talk while he shaved. Each time he rinsed the blade, he took a deep breath and whispered reassurance.

"Of course he'll like it."

He turned around, flipped on the shower, and stepped in, shivering as the steam prickled the hair on his arms. One hand snuck out from behind the curtain, reaching for the can of shaving cream and razor. Almost fifteen minutes passed before he muttered defeat.

Pushing back the curtain, Byron leaned down into a shopping bag by the towel rack and retrieved a bright pink bottle. He sighed and shook his head as he disappeared back into the shower.

An hour later, he stood in front of the mirror, inspecting his skin. He couldn't stop touching himself-when his bare skin brushed against something, heat curled up in his gut and he had to exhale and balance against something. His knees quivered as the towel slipped along the back of his thigh.

He started pulling more things out of the shopping bag. The underwear felt several sizes too small, but with a bit of adjustment, he managed to reduce the tightness in front. The fishnets eluded him for a bit before he realized he had to sit down to put them on. He winced as his weight put further pressure on already nervous flesh.

"God, girls are so... fragile," he sighed.

With trepidation, his gaze swept up to a garment bag hanging from the back of the door. He swallowed nervously, then grabbed the bag and unzipped it, shoving his arms through the sleeves and yanking down, not sparing a glance to the mirror until he had zipped up the back of the dress.

He turned slowly, staring at his reflection in astonishment. A girl stood in his place; a rather lanky girl, with chopped dark hair and wondering eyes. The red dress gave a faint shimmer as he breathed. The stockings curved around the muscles in his legs and made him itch slightly.

He leaned up close to the glass, fogging it with his words. "You look hot."

He rummaged through the makeup in the bag, picking up items and looking at them. Finally, he realized he wasn't going to pull this off without help. At this point, he was kind of glad that his brothers had chosen to leave for the Halloween party early.

He peeked through the bathroom door, barely cracking it open. Giggling could be heard from Mallory and Vanessa's bedroom. Byron hoped that Mallory had already gone to her club's trick-or-treating outing, and that the giggles were just Vanessa.

"Vanessa?" he called nervously, his fingers drumming on the edge of the door.

A hula dancer with dark hair stepped out of her room, holding the cordless phone to one ear. "Byron? I thought you went with... Oh, Char, I'll call you back."

Byron stuck his head out, but only his head. "I need... help."

Vanessa's face displayed total shock. "Help?"

"With my costume. With um... makeup." Byron sighed, "You can't laugh."

She shook her head, forcing the bathroom door open. "I won't... Oh my God. Byron."

He collapsed on the toilet seat, hand running through his hair. "I-It's not a big deal or anything, I'll do it myself."

Vanessa crept to his side, kneeling. Her attitude had changed from disbelief to compassion. "Is this... Is this for Jeff?"

He jerked uncomfortably, wincing as the fishnets went one way and the underwear the other. "How do you know about that?"

In answer, she had mascara and eyeliner in hand, pushing his hand aside. "Shush. And don't move. Close your eyes."

Byron resisted the urge to twitch as his face was subtly muted and blended with powders, creams and pencil. It tickled slightly, like the cool air on his legs, but it didn't give him shivers quite the same way.

Vanessa smiled brightly at him as she held out the mirror for him to inspect her handiwork. He gasped as the girl in the reflection stared at him from under dark lashes and rum-bruised lips.

"Um... wow."

She leaned back on the counter, nodding in agreement. "Can't even tell you've got identical brothers now."

A raised eyebrow was all it took to change the subject. "So, are you going to a party or anything, 'Nessa?"

"Nah, Char and I are passing out candy and spending the whole night on the phone."

Byron smiled, liking the way it looked in the mirror. "Then I guess I'd better go, before Jeff thinks I forgot to pick him up."

"Don't forget your purse!" They cracked up laughing at that, and then Byron scrambled down the hall to get the crimson heels stored in the back of the coat closet.

Driving proved to be an obstacle, until he took the shoes off and drove in his stocking feet. Also, he kept peeking at himself in the rear view mirror, not quite confident that the face winking back at him was really him.

He mounted the Schaefer-Spiers' porch steps with agility. All those late nights sneaking downstairs to practice in the heels had paid off. He shifted his purse up onto a shoulder and rang the bell, only half-confident.

Jeff's mom opened the door, candy bucket in hand. She blinked in confusion, looking Byron up and down before her mouth fell open in amazement.

"Byron... is that you?"

"Yeah," he replied with a shaky laugh. "Vanessa did my makeup."

She smiled, shaking her head. "I'm sure your sisters loved that. Come on, have a seat in the living room. Jeff's going as... a zombie, I think."

Byron followed her into the living room, perching on the sofa near the stairs.

"Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeff! Byron's here!"

Byron's heart fluttered and tightened inside the form-fitting dress. This was the big moment, and he hadn't run all the possibilities through his head before Jeff appeared around the corner, flesh dripping off his face and his neck smeared in fake blood.

"Oh, hey..." Jeff's face stretched out even more grotesquely. He leaned up close to Byron, his breath hot as he whispered, "Fuck, Byron. What the... just... fuck."

Byron's head was a swimming mess, unable to clear itself, but he managed to whisper back, "Say fuck again and we will be."

"Oh God." Jeff had to sit down on the couch to keep from falling over. "Maybe we shouldn't go to that party. Your brothers would freak."

Before Byron had a chance to answer, Mrs. Spier popped out of nowhere with a camera and snapped a picture. Jeff was on his feet, shouting.

"Get out of here, Mom!"

Byron pulled him back down. "Let her take pictures. It'll probably be the only time she sees her son with a girl." Jeff smiled wryly back and yanked Byron up.

"Byron says he wants pictures of us."

Mrs. Spier flushed, but nodded, guiding them over to the fireplace and taking a few more shots before the doorbell rang and she had to go out with the treat bucket. Standing at the door were a large group of children, flanked by Jessi and... Mallory. Jeff and Byron had no chance to dart out of vision before Mallory locked eyes with her brother and squinted quizzically.

The door shut and Mrs. Spier went back to the kitchen. Byron and Jeff stood,hands gripped together before they made a shocked dash upstairs.

Mallory leaned over the children's heads to whisper to her best friend. "I think that was Byron. Holding Jeff's hand." She sounded absolutely horrified.

Jessi's face cracked into a grin. "They say it runs in families, Mal." And she winked.


	3. Shouldn't Talk At All

Title: Shouldn't Talk At All

Author: Joy

Pairing: Byron/Jeff

Rating: Definitely R this time.

Disclaimer: If I got paid to write this, my name would be Ann M. Martin. & it isn't, so no money for me.

Notes: Sequel to "Costumed". There are a whole bunch of songs that might go nicely with this, but "Face Down Ass Up" comes to mind first. For mizzmarvel: a nice little surprise when you get back to a computer. ;) & for Mandy, who likes to encourage me.

* * *

"That was... oh my God."

Byron gasped, forcing air in and out of his lungs with great difficulty. The fact that Jeff was hanging off him, slashing at his neck and earlobes with a soft, wet tongue made breathing all the more impossible. He tried to push Jeff awaygently, but his hands disobeyed his mind and fisted themselves into Jeff's shirt, yanking up and sideways.

The boys found the floor rather quickly, Byron shoved up against the side of the bed and his hands pinned behind him, while Jeff made desperate noises into his neck, squirming.

"You're gonna smear my makeup," whimpered Byron, not really caring at the moment and shifting. His underwear had now become increasingly painful, no matter which way he moved. Jeff stopped, nodded. Reached for a bottle on the table. Byron squeezed his eyes shut, slightly terrified they were moving too fast. Then sharp coldness stung his face as Jeff carefully wiped the colors from his face and neck. Byron cracked open an eye, finding Jeff removing his own makeup as well.

"Your dress," explained Jeff, running a finger down Byron's ribcage.

Byron stood shakily, before clambering onto the bedspread. He peeked back at Jeff from all fours.

The bottle fell to the floor. Byron clamped his teeth together as he felt a warm hand slide up the inside of his thigh, massaging gently and using folded knuckles to put pressure where it would be felt most. He felt like sliding down to his stomach and spreading right there, but he let Jeff move at his own pace.

Jeff slipped his other hand between Byron's legs and stroked up in long, lazy movements, enjoying the bumps of the fishnets over his sensitive fingertips. He almost ignored the pitiful mewling, but running his hands up to the top of the stockings, he found that slipping them down Byron's legs caused the mewling to break into short cries of pleasure.

Arching his back until it burned, Byron wiggled his hips in an attempt to tempt Jeff back towards his groin. However, Jeff was finding that wrapping his tongue around a slim ankle provided much more entertainment, as Byron squealed and jerked.

"Ahhhh... God..."

Jeff grinned. He loved Byron's voice when it tread the fine line of self-control. Slipping his tongue a little higher, he found that the shaved-smooth surface was incredibly erotic. It was stimulating to the point in which he had to squeeze himself to settle down.

Byron was not content to remain on his hands and knees. As he crouched backwards, he nudged Jeff's head with his hip. Jeff pushed him back up, biting the back of a thigh teasingly. Trembling, Byron tried to hold still as Jeff came up behind him, nearly smothering him with heat.

A kiss landed on his shoulder blade, and he let his head fall limp, exhaling in relief. Jeff's fingers were slowly pulling the zipper down his back, and a cold chill ran along his spine. The exposed flesh was quickly treated to Jeff's eager yet patient tongue, right on down to the vertebrae that curved down below his skin.

So close to his ass, it seemed an eternity before Jeff patted him lightly. Goosebumps stood up visibly all over Byron's body, and he tried again, to hurry Jeff up, but the blonde would have none of it.

Instead, Byron received a stinging slap to his right buttock, and the shock forced his weight down onto his elbows. He blushed furiously as he realized how vulnerable the position made him. His thoughts raced, but were halted by a second slap, this one reigniting the fire that ran through his legs and belly.

"Jeff...? I want... oh fuck."

It was hard to think now, with Jeff's arms reaching underneath him now to lift him up, nimble fingers finding hardened nipples and squeezing with the exact amount of force that caused Byron to throw his head back and gasp.

Somewhere, in a fog beyond the twisting of Jeff's fingers, Byron felt the underwear being slipped down, and pants being tossed aside. When his mind cleared, his chest was burning, not unpleasantly, and Jeff was laying underneath him, running a hand down his stomach over and over again, petting him.

Jeff raised his eyebrow suggestively as his fingers drew patterns. Byron smiled back at him, and a flash in his eyes was all that Jeff got before he was overwhelmed by a dark-haired boy's lips closing around his cock.

It felt like fire, fire that slid along his underside and pulled back, letting fresh air prickle over him before engulfing him again. He squirmed frantically, trying to find someplace to put his hands, but Byron had moved on within a few more strokes. Jeff's thighs stiffened as Byron's tongue laved across his balls and began drawing them in, one at a time. Stupidly, only one thing came out of his mouth. "Gadzooks, Batman!"

Sensations exploded as Byron, his mouth full, started to laugh. Then the laughing turned to giggling, and he pulled away before he hurt Jeff.

"You are... sooo... going to... pay for... that." Byron curled into a ball, shaking his head in disbelief.


End file.
